Ah, this is too good to miss. A website devoted to trash films:
There you can find gems such as this one:
CANVAS OF BLOOD.
Dad is a college professor, and his daughter is a competing violinist with a jerk boyfriend. He wants to do it, she doesn’t (“I’m not ready for a sexual relationship yet”), so he visits a massage parlor twice a week. Walking through the woods to rent a copy of Amadeus (I don’t make this shit up!) dad and daughter are attacked by a mugger.
The girl develops a cyst on her hand and requires surgery. We see the doctor snorting coke, so we know ahead of time he’s going to fuck it up. He comes in drunk to the operation and consequently her hand is damaged to the point of not being able to play the violin ever again.
They hire a lawyer, long-haired ambulance chaser Flanders Davenport (“Only the best lawyers can advertise on T.V.”) to sue the doctor, but he’s being paid off by the doctor to lose the case.
After losing the case, Dad returns to the courthouse for his briefcase or something, and sees the three drinking in celebration. Of course, you know this means war.
It’s obvious all this is leading up to a “Death Wish” moment, with the dad reverting to his Vietnam training and opening up a can of whup-ass. But it takes way too long to get around to the revenge part. And they wait until the very end of the movie to clue us in that the prof is a ex-special ops Vietnam vet.
So Dad does what any red-blooded man who loses a court case does. He makes a portable hand saw and attaches it to his gloved hand, and masked, cuts off the doc’s fingers! Next Professor Dad builds some sort of portable blow-torch and as the judge is about to enjoy a Cuban cigar, he gives him a light – all over his head (offscreen). A feet away, the judge’s wife doesn’t notice the screaming and fire in the back yard. He attaches an accessory to his hand that allows him to crush things, like billiard balls, and he goes to the massage parlor, to give the old BF an unhappy ending, if you know what I mean…
After the killings, his daughter is suddenly and without explanation back to normal. Infuriating in its’ cheapness and half-assed storytelling. There’s part of a good idea in here somewhere, but it’s certainly not onscreen.
After the film’s ending, we go to a 5 minute scene at a strip club, as two silicone beneficiaries rub on two fat-ass truckers. I guess someone’s buddy owned a titty bar and the scene was “too good” to edit.